


Hush Now

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, I Tried, I wrote this in the middle of the night, I'm Sorry, Is this non-con?, M/M, Mentions of gore and torture, OOC Tarn (Towards the end-ish), Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finally managing to capture Overlord, Tarn goes to interrogate the mech. Unfortunately, he discovers that Vos tested a dangerous injection on their captive, and on Tarn himself. He ends up being used by Overlord as an outlet to counteract the drug, and is forced to remain completely silent throughout the ordeal, or risk Kaon [and ultimately the other D.J.D.] finding out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Now

_'Overlord. List traitor, powerful opponent, and current captive of the D.J.D. No interrogation techniques have been proven successful in an attempt at extracting information from him.'_

Tarn switched the monitor off with a scowl of irritation forming under his mask. Four solar cycles, and they had still not managed to wipe the smug grin off that bastard's mouth. It really got under his metal, even without considering the expert level of interrogation/torture that each member of the Decepticon Justice Division possessed; then it just became a slap to the faceplate. He slammed his fist into the offline screen with a resounding crash, giving in to his anger in a moment of weakness.

Taking a deep intake, he regained his composure and headed for Overlord's cell. In all honesty, it was more of a room with torture devices and chains. Primus, it sounded like something you would find in some pervert's basement, but it really wasn't. Really. It was just a normal torture room. With normal torture. Totally normal. Totally. He was just going to stop now.

As he came to the door, Tarn sighed. He needed to get his thoughts under control, but they had been so wild, so erratic, lately. Nickel tried, but couldn't find a reason other then something that might be psychological. But why now? In his entire lifecycle so far, he had always been able to control his thoughts under any circumstance, so why was he not able to now?

What about _now_ made it near impossible?

He shuttered his optics a few times to get his wandering processor back, servo hovering over the codepad next to the door. Tarn stared at it for a long second, then tapped in the 12 digit code and waited for the door to slide open before he walked into the room, and the door slid shut behind him. As one would expect from a room such as this, it was dark and quiet, nothing new. But something...Something was off. Something was _wrong_. His gaze shot to the table in the center of the room where they had strapped Overlord down...

Empty.

Energon-splattered, damaged, but empty.

Tarn revved up his canons, prepping them to fire while he quickly assessed the situation. Overlord was missing, he didn't know where the mech was. The door had been intact, so unless one of the others took him out- which they did not- he was still in-

_CRASH! BAM!_

Tarn's vents rattled as he took in a strained intake, the frame behind him, harshly pressing his own into the wall, [Faceplate first] making it hard to do so.

Ah. There he was.

"Hello, Tarn," Overlord whispered, mouth much too close to Tarn's audio sensor for his liking. Tarn writhed slightly under the other mech, trying to angle his canon anywhere other then the ceiling, all the while talking calmly and asking himself how on Cybertron Overlord got loose. He had been a fool to let the Con [Ex-Con?] sneak up on him like that.

"Overlord," He greeted curtly, then frowned when the other mech noticed his canon's movements and quickly pinned his arms above his helm with a servo. This was just wonderful. What had brought _this_ on?

"Really now, I'm quite hurt here." Overlord began, to which Tarn scoffed. Overlord, hurt. What a stupid thing to say. "You bring me here, hold me in this room for four solar cycles, and of all the D.J.D., you were the only one who didn't visit me!" Overlord practically purred the last line, and very uncharacteristically, one might add. "Can you tell me why?"

"Why do you care?" Tarn asked in return, trying to buy himself more time to think. He tuned out whatever response Overlord was giving in favor of concentrating on other, smaller, harder to detect if your attention was elsewhere, things. Signs, maybe, as to why Overlord was acting different then his usual, at least partially hateful self. Different, kind of like Tarn, in fact.

He could now feel Overlord's heavy breath falling on his neck, tickling the wires underneath. All around them, the larger mech's E.M. field tangled with Tarn's, giving off heavy, thick, lustful waves. It pushed his own E.M. field back slightly, an unintentional attempt at dominance. Then there was that distinct heat in Overlord's armor, that aroused, somewhat enticing, tempting, heat.

Tarn jerked his mind back to the present with a sneer of disgust at his last few thoughts. He was somewhat shocked to find Overlord taking advantage of his momentary distraction by running a digit over his backstrut slowly; up and down, up and down...

The tank arched his back, trying in vain to break contact with that distracting digit.

"You're doing it again~" Overlord said, confusing Tarn even more then he was already.

"Doing what?"

Overlord wore his signature smirk as he pressed closer to Tarn, closer then the leader of the D.J.D. thought possible, considering how close they already were. It didn't exactly make him feel comfortable.

"Spacing out, going into your own mind, _ignoring me,_ _"_ Overlord put emphasis on the last two words, saying them with a venomous yet singsongy voice. _"And I don't like being ignored..."_

Tarn understood the hidden threat, and retorted properly.

" _My apologies"_ He drawled sarcastically, "For ignoring a mech pressed up against me very lewdly, with sinful levels of desire very blatantly obvious desire practically _dripping_ from him," He growled, trying in vain to get free of the vice grip holding him in place. His attempts did nothing more then amuse the Ex-Con, who just grinned.

"Don't blame _me_ for this," He started, resuming running his digit up and down Tarn's backstrut after he calmed down a little. "Your comrade, Vos, is it? The little one with the mask. He's quite the scientist, but he could do with perfecting some of his formulas. This one tends to go wrong."

Tarn made a mental note to never let Vos test anything on dangerous prisoners again.

"So what?" He growled. I fail to see the point of you telling me all this."

Overlord rolled his optics in exasperation. "Too slow, Tarn. I expected better from you, but I suppose I can explain anyway. In simple terms, the drug went wrong and now causes lust. Your masked friend has been unknowingly giving it to me...and to you."

"Of course," Tarn scoffed sarcastically. "As if you'd actually expect me to believe that."

"Believe what you like, it's true. Energon tasting strange? Ignoring addictions? Zoning out, distracted?"

He was lying. Overlord was lying, wasn't he? Tarn could feel his will to struggle slip away under the effects of the drug as he realized what the warrior was saying was, in fact, true. If this was just a drug, a harmless one at that, then why not let it take control? It would be so simple, and no one could blame him for anything he did...

No. Tarn had more questions, but was tired of asking. He would NOT let the drug control his mind, and he would _definitely not_ let Overlord do what he wanted, no matter how much sense he seemed to be making!

"Overlord, **GET OFF OF ME."** He ordered, voice dangerously low. He didn't want to kill the Ex-Con, he had too much information in his processor, but push him enough and he would, information or not. **"Now!"**

Overlord's grip weakened, and Tarn twisted to the side, wrenching his arms out of the Ex-Con's grip. At the same time, he maneuvered his pede behind one of the taller mech's legs and shoved it forward, sending the elite warrior falling on his back with a surprised noise.

**"Stay down, traitor."**

Overlord's optics widened as a small wave of pain sparked through him. It didn't hurt so much as shock him that Tarn was _capable_ of hurting him, albeit on a small scale. But, as interesting as that little fact was, and as venomous as Tarn's voice was, he was slowly getting tired of waiting. From the ground, he smiled. The same annoying, arrogant expression he always wore that bothered his 'captor' to no end. "An impressive show of power, Tarn. Really, I am impressed."

"No you aren't," The Decepticon corrected. "You aren't impressed by anything." With that fact pointed out, he turned and strode towards a table built into the wall opposite the one he had just been pinned up against. "Vos should have left the counter-agent- or an antidote of some sort- over here somewhere..."

Overlord rose to his pedes silently. "Oh, but I am. Your voice is something special, _you_ are something special."

"Overlord, what are you getting at-?"

Tarn turned around, only to be greeted by Overlord's servo wrapping around his neck, all the while he was talking as if in casual conversation with a choking leader of the D.J.D.

"This isn't just the drug talking. You've always been interesting to me, and now, having you pinned like _this_ ," He forced Tarn around, bending him over the table forcefully, relishing Tarn's gasp of surprise. "With that _voice_ of yours doing _things_ to me..." Overlord gave a predatory smirk, charge rising higher by the second. "I think you can guess what I want, and I'm done being subtle about it."

**"OVERLORD!"** Tarn shouted in anger and shock. "I swear on Megatron's spark, if you don't release me **this instant,** I will swing my cannon around and **blast you in the faceplate!"**

Overlord just chuckled and clicked his glossa disapprovingly. "Not if you can't move your arms." He easily reached up and grabbed a random chain- this room had them everywhere- and shaking it tauntingly. "Would you like me to?"

_"Absolutely not!"_ Tarn hissed. "What I **would like you to do is to LET. ME. GO."**

"Out of the question. Oh, and Tarn? A piece of advice: Don't strain your voice trying to kill me like that. It wont work. Your futile little attempts will _never_ work. In fact, I'd even say they feel pretty good."

As if to prove his point, Overlord flared his E.M. field, and instantly Tarn went limp. He was being engulfed in heat; sticky, lustful, absolutely _sinful_ heat. It pressed against him, engulfing him; he could barely breathe as it wormed its way into his own E.M. field, practically gagging him with desire. His optics offlined as it pushed further, finding its way into his systems, tainting his field with twisted pleasure. Tarn was forced to grip the table as Overlord amped up his field power, coaxing a low moan out of the Decepticon.

If Tarn were any other mech, he would have fallen to his knees and begged to be fragged long ago. Unfortunately for Overlord, Tarn wasn't, and so he didn't. Pity. It would have made everything so much simpler. but this was entertaining, and Overlord loved slowly getting _high and mighty_ mechs like Tarn to the point where they spewed incoherent words and moans, spurred on by mindless pleasure, pleasure provided by Overlord. And when Tarn moaned, _primus_ , the vibrations fell onto the warrior's spark, sending jolts of electricity through him, teasing him to no end, making his E.M. field flare, and generally making things worse for Tarn. Or better, depending on how you saw things.

If you asked Overlord, he would say better, and it showed. Tarn was practically trembling, digits gripping onto the cold metal of the table hard enough to leave dents as wave after wave of pleasure from Overlord's E.M. field crashed into him, making him voice desire he didn't want in the form of the occasional gasp or moan.

"Now really, Tarn, I understand that my E.M. field is stronger then most, but this is just sad. Do you really want me that badly?" Overlord teased, running a servo over the trembling mech's inner thigh plating and up to his interface panel. "Or are you just that out of practice?"

This prompted a strained, "F-frag you!" From Tarn.

"Yes," Overlord fondled the hatch on the tank's armor. "I think I'll get to that."

"No, don't, Overlo- Aaah...~" Tarn's panicked protest was cut short when Overlord focused a quick burst of his E.M. field around where his hand rested on Tarn's paneling.

"Sorry, can't quite understand you," Overlord apologized smugly. He didn't bother with asking him to open his panels, Tarn would never do that willingly, so he did what any other mech would do in his place. He tore the panel off.

Tarn jerked in his grip, fighting the servo around his neck while cursing under his breath. Secretly, under the mask, he faceplate was flushed in embarrassment. Overlord's actions were having an effect on him, despite trying to resist. It was getting harder to do so, thanks to the drug fueling his desire. When he had first been pinned against the wall he felt nothing but hate for the warrior, but now, now he... - Damn this drug for messing with his processor!

"Yet again, you drift off..." Overlord murmured, eyeing Tarn with a hungry expression. With the removal of his panel, the lubricant dripping down from the tankformer's valve was revealed, the truth of his level of need.

"And you tried protesting," Overlord purred. "Let's see if I can get you to finally pay me your undivided attention." Not being one for subtlety, he circled his digit around the outer rim of the Decepticon's valve before plunging 2 of them into the tight, wet, space.

Tarn let loose a muffled cry, unprepared for the sensation. He automatically tensed and bit his lip, letting his helm lay on the table. He was trying to hate this, he really was, but Overlord's E.M. field and now his digits were forcing pleasure onto him. All the while his own field was pushing back with mixed emotions of disgust, fear, seething anger, and, as much as he hated to admit it, pleasure. It was made even more humiliating when he noticed the gloating confidence Overlord emitted and realized it was because he was being so submissive all of a sudden.

No, no this wasn't him. This was him under the effects of the drug. He just had to-

"Tarn!" Overlord really was tired of him delving into thought like that. It was becoming a quiescence, but that could be dealt with.

Tarn's helm jerked up and another of those damn moans escaped him. Overlord had begun...doing _things_ with his fingers. Moving them in and out, spreading them, making curling motions, effectively exploring him. Primus, this wasn't supposed to feel so good... His frame wanted to press his hips down, to take in the digits that were slowly making him loose himself deeper, and his processor told him to object, to trash and writhe and do everything he could to get away from the traitor. So now he was stuck between yes and no, pleasure and dignity, traitor or cause.

"Oh, you are so much better like this, Tarn," Overlord gloated behind him. "Submitting to me while in heat, moaning at my touches, so close to coming undone. No sarcastic comments, no annoying conversations, just," His digits found a hidden node and Tarn's helm fell back as his erotic cry echoed off the walls. "Mindless pleasure." The elite warrior chuckled at the thought that he might be the only one who could do this to the other mech, the only one who could see him like this or _could_ see him like this. It made his engines rev in excitement.

"Not...NHhhg~...Mindless..." Tarn moaned in the middle of his denial, making it even less convincing then it would have been had he not.

Overlord just laughed and pressed his digits against the no-longer-hidden node again, rubbing them against it slowly, eliciting another, louder, pleasured cry from Tarn. So sensitive. "Hush now, Tarn. As much as I like to hear you, do you really want the _rest_ of your precious little Justice Division hearing you? The blind one must have acute audio receptors, right?"

With a shock, the leader of the D.J.D. realized Overlord was right. If the rest of the Division heard him, his humiliation would be just about complete. The only thing worse would be if he sunk to his knees and sucked Overlord's spike. _Oh Primus, he did NOT need that image._ He nodded, acknowledging his point. "Then why don't you get off me?" He suggested semi-hopefully.

"Hmm...That would be no fun. How about we have a little competition instead? I try to get you to scream, you try not to, but with one little catch."

"WHAT?! I refuse to take part in such a foolish and risky and- and _disgusting_ challenge!"

"That's the catch," Overlord pointed out gleefully. "You don't want to!" He withdrew his digits almost fully. He had dealt with stubborn mechs before, he could deal with this one. He could make Tarn _want._

He could make Tarn _need._

He could make him _submit._

_And he would do it with ease._

Up till now, Overlord had really just been playing. [Blame Tarn for being so erotically sensitive.] But now, true to his challenge, he wanted to make the mech below him beg, to scream, not just moan. He wanted Tarn to be so lost in perfect pleasure that he _screamed_ Overlord's designation, loud enough that every person on this ship would come running. Wouldn't they be in for a surprise.

So now, he slid his digits around the inner edge of Tarn's valve, making them circle agonizingly slowly, but hitting every single node he had there, similar to something he had done a very short time ago.

The tankformer was shaking again, and one of his servos had slid down to grasp the edge of the table. The digits, they were just moving too slowly now! Slower then the servo trailing down his chest... Wait- Overlord had released his neck! Tarn started to get up, but the servo that had just been on his neck forced him back down again quickly.

"There are chains everywhere here, don't make me use them." With the threat presented to him again, and for the sake of his dignity, [or rather what was left of it] Tarn decided that it would be best to comply and stay pressed down to the table. [He had no delusions of beating Overlord alone.] At this point he was just so fed up with everything that he felt he might as well submit to Overlord's desire and to his own frame's need.

Was it the drug talking? Was it him? It didn't even matter. Right now his frame and processor were overridden by arousal and desire, and who was he to deny them? But Overlord wanted a 'competition,' so competition he would get. Silence from Tarn, that was the deal? Stay silent, don't scream. He could do that. Surely he had enough self control left for at least that.

He suddenly shifted his hips down, taking Overlord's digits back inside of him. With a roll of his hips, he made them find that oh so sensitive node again. He rolled his hips again when Overlord did nothing- why did he stop?! Tarn was in no position to be writing formal invitations, if that's what he was waiting for!

"I take it this is your way of submitting to me?" Overlord questioned, strangely devoid of any emotion.

"Yes, yes. Submitting, giving in, not struggling- whatever you want to call it! Would you just fragging _DO something already?!"_

Overlord's cocky aura was back in a flash, along with a sickeningly smug smirk. [One of his best yet.] "Of course, Tarn. You had only to ask nicely. I take it from your desperate movements that you want me doing this?" In one quick movement, Overlord thrust his digits against the node, grinding them into it harshly. He was doing it very right, because Tarn quickly clamped the servo not clutching the table in a vice-like grip over his mask's mouthpiece to prevent anything louder then a pleased whimper to escape him.

"Am I to understand that my challenge is still on?" The response he got was a nod and a muffled "Yes!" This prompted a chuckle from him. "Good, now hold still."

Tarn heard the distinct sound of a pressurized spike emerging. A small flash of nervousness crossed his processor for a moment, but it left just as fast. He had to keep telling himself that this was a quick, logical way to get rid of the drug, or it would be if Overlord _picked up the damn pace already._ To help things go a little more smoothly for the both of them, he relaxed and spread his legs. Just get it over with quickly. Right. He was totally aiming for that.

This was getting _quite close_ to obedience from the tankformer, which Overlord thought was just delightful. It wouldn't be every solar cycle that he could see him this worked up. He would gloat about this for vorns.

Now he aligned his spike with Tarn's port and slowly pushed in. _Oh Primus..._ Tarn's inner walls clenched him so tightly with their wet heat- _By The Allspark_ he must be the first mech to take Tarn if he was this tight. Overlord groaned in satisfaction. "Am I the first to-"

"Just shut up and move, you- Aaaah~" The Decepticon's request was easily fulfilled, and Overlord wasn't exactly setting the most gentle of paces. His first thrust buried himself all the way in Tarn's valve and hit the mech's ceiling node, resulting in Tarn's quiet but drawn out moan. Then Overlord pulled out almost all the way before snapping his hips forward and doing it again, and again, and again.

Now Tarn knew he was a large mech. As a tankformer, he was larger then most, but Overlord was even bigger then he was, and his spike certainly helped convey that particular statement. It filled him completely, reaching every single node inside him as the brutal thrusting rendered him unable to do much more then grip the table and keep somewhat quiet while Overlord fragged him halfway into oblivion.

"Such a naughty Decepticon you are, Tarn. Consorting with the enemy? _Fragging_ the enemy? If I didn't know better, I'd say this was a major turn on for you, hm?" Overlord taunted, keeping his voice infuriatingly smooth even while driving his hips forward and back with enough force to make the clanging echo loudly through the room. Meanwhile, Tarn could barely string together a single sentence without a pleasured noise escaping him somehow. Instead, he growled at the larger mech, who seemed both entertained and disapproving of the sound.

"Ah ah ah," The elite shook his helm. "When I requested you be vocal, I didn't mean _that._ " Overlord slowed his pace down _again, [slag him to the pit]_ from violent fragging to excruciatingly, agonizingly, _slow._ And Tarn would never understand _why._ "So, if you want me to continue and get rid of all this charge you have stored up, I think I'm going to want to hear a little _begging_ here."

"I- You're serious about this." Tarn said in almost disbelief. "You're fragging _serious._ Overlord, you _made me_ do this. Don't make me regret that decision!"

"You know, that strangely doesn't sound like begging to me." Overlord remarked, speeding up only ever so slightly to higher Tarn's hopes of him continuing anyway, only to slow down twice as much, dashing the tankformer's hopes entirely.

"And if I do that- If I lower myself to _begging_ ," Tarn spat out the word, acting as if the very notion of such a thing caused him physical pain. "Then you won't pull something like _this_ again?"

"You have my word," Overlord promised. "Whatever good that does."

Tarn nodded, then gasped as the elite snapped his hips forward impatiently, now making small grinding motions that were really starting to push the tankformer to the edge. "Overlord, _please_ ," He whimpered, trying to sink back deeper onto Overlord's spike. "I want you, I need this, _please, Overlord! I'm begging you, please! I need you so badly it hurts...!_ "

"And what exactly do you need from me?" Overlord whispered in his audio, and Tarn broke.

"I need you to fill me up, frag me until I scream your designation! I need you to force me down again, to take what you want, to make it so good it hurts! Just _please, Overlord!_ I swear on my spark I'll do whatever you want of me, I just need you to finish me! _**Overlord I need you!"**_ Silence was no longer a factor as Tarn, completely pathetic at this point, whimpered and begged Overlord, who instantly obliged to every single one of Tarn's requests.

Within moments he had forcefully pushed the now tame and broken Decepticon down against the table again, then set a pace somehow much more quick and hard and painful and perfect then the last. With every insanely powerful movement he made, a series of pained and pleasured screams fell from Tarn's mouth. He was filling up the tankformer completely, and with one, huge, burst of his E.M. field, the wordless screams turned into mindless howls of Overlord's name. Over and over Tarn screamed that designation, so shouts of _"OVERLORD!"_ blended in with the harsh sound of metal on metal.

Then Overlord did something to Tarn that made his screams reach a completely different level. They rebounded across the entire _ship_ , Tarn screaming _his name_ was loud enough for every single person on board to hear. And he _wanted_ them to know that Tarn was his, and his alone.

Both their charges were running impossibly high now. All it would take to end it all would be one little push, one that Overlord would be happy to provide for the Decepticon so blindly screaming his name. Oh, but he didn't want this to stop, he wanted to hear his name spill from Tarn's lips for a good while longer, and so he would. One overload was no obstacle.

Tarn's vision was starting to black out around the edges now, as Overlord pounded into his trembling frame, completely dominating him, controlling him... And he loved it. Every move the elite made to take more control away from him made everything only so much better. Now he was _so close_ , screaming that designation that he hated so much only a short while ago, as if doing so would bring him the relief he craved.

In a sense, it did. A large servo wrapped around his needy spike, and in 2 swift movements his overload was drawn from him. His screams devolved back into a long, wordless cry of ecstasy as his optics offlined from pleasure and his voicebox short circuited from all the abuse. Overlord wasn't far behind him, letting slip a guttural moan as he shot transfluid into the mech bellow him, though Tarn was too far gone to care.

Overlord gave Tarn a few moments to recover before bringing up a small point. "Do I recall you saying that you'd do anything if I fragged you like this?" He rumbled deep in his chest. "Because I'm still not satisfied..."

All of a sudden, the door to the room was forced open, revealing 5 worried and very shocked Decepticons, plus one salivating sparkeater. All of them minus Kaon stared on in a sort of horror and disgust at the scene laid out before them, though Kaon understood what was going on very well from the sounds he heard, especially when Overlord pulled out of the mech bellow him.

"I _did_ warn you they would hear if you weren't quiet," He pointed out. "Not that I can complain~"

Tarn's reply was a tired groan, _and then_ the screaming started.

"What did you think you were-"

"Indecent as anything-"

"He better not have hurt you or so help me-"

"How did he manage to-"

And something in ancient Cybertronian, which Tarn was too tired to translate, but it better have been a damn apology!

Overlord laughed at the sheer amount of chaos erupting around them, and held up his servos. "Hmm. For Tarn's sake, I might as well say that this was well and all my fault, though he did start contributing a bit towards the end."

"Overlord..." Tarn weakly protested, exhausted.

"Yes, you were something like that, but louder." Overlord grinned at the rest of the D.J.D. "Now, if you'll kindly excuse us, I have some more _unfinished_ _business_ with your leader here."

It was instantaneous. The moment the words left the elite's mouth, every person with a weapon or something equally painful on their person pointed said painful object at Overlord. It was kind of cute, actually, to see how much they cared for their leader, after he had been so thoroughly humiliated. But no matter. They would soon see why the would have to heed to his request.

"You might want to put those things down. I _could_ fight you, but this way just saves time," Overlord pointed out. "Besides, there's not much you can do against a promise sworn on one's spark, can you?"

Kaon looked at Tarn with a confused expression clear on his face. "Tarn?" He asked slowly. "What did you promise?"

"Something," Overlord answered, "That if you were disturbed by this, would not want to witness. So unless anyone wants to join- No? Thought so- _Get out._ " With that, he slammed the door shut and turned to face Tarn. "Well then, my dear little Decepticon, where were we?"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> But hey, if you stayed until the end and are reading this, thank you and I love you!
> 
> [I just happen to be a super perv and writing ooc stuff is my super power. Hi.]


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